


Rags to Riches

by AriesAscending



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Multi, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Shapeshifting, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 09:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17505977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriesAscending/pseuds/AriesAscending
Summary: You've had a lot of time to think about kindness. More time than you know what to do with, really. Being alone so often does that to you. You're pretty sure you'll never find a home- not after the accident that's left you looking like something you'd scrape off the street.But life has a funny way of proving you wrong, and ironically enough, life chooses to use a pair of skeletons to do so....Stupid skeletons.





	Rags to Riches

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting in my docs since... Literally August lmao. I've revised it A L O T since then and I guess I'm happy with it for now? 
> 
> One thing's for sure, I'm not doing anything with it until I've finished Cheshire Kitten (which I promise I'm working on, life is just rough lol) and possibly another project?? We'll see. I have plans but idk if they'll ever come to fruition. Might just do like I'm doing this one and post the first chapter to see how y'all like it. 
> 
> ANYWAYS that's a lot of blabbers from me, I'll go back and fix tags and things tomorrow, but for now I'm just gonna drop this here and let y'all enjoy lol Love you all, good night~~

Sometimes, when you were alone, you liked to think of acts of kindness. You liked to think of the big, earth-shaking acts and the barely noticeable ones, and you held onto both with every ounce of your being. You depended on those moments and thought of them frequently. 

You thought of the boy who’d snuck you food from his family's bakery, taking pity on the dirty orphan left in the street. You thought of how he’d hide you away in his room and share his clothes and his bath and his bed. You thought of his smile and his gentle, calloused hands and his desire to learn about everything.

You thought of his apprehension the first time you changed, and how he helped you regardless. You thought of the day when the men came with pitchforks and fire and spite to drive out all the “witches”; you thought of those gentle hands rushing to rouse you from your bed, clothe you, shove food into your arms- you thought of those gentle hands as they cupped your face and kissed your forehead and his sad smile as he whispered, “Good luck.”

You thought of his smile when he led you out the back door. You thought of the tears in his big brown eyes and the fire of protectiveness in them. You thought of whispering a “thank you” to him brokenly, and as you fled, shifting forms, you heard him murmur back, “Anytime.”

You thought about him a lot.

You thought about the travelling family who you’d met years later, who found you lying half-dead on the road and cared for you. You thought of the woman with a loud voice but a quiet soul, who’d sown you clothes and taught you how to cook and clean and read alongside her own children. You thought of the man with a big smile and big hands and a big soul who taught you how to work and protect yourself and manage money. You thought of their children who played with you despite being half your age and who taught you all the best games.

You thought of all the people you met, travelling with them- all the things you saw, the things you did and all the stars you’d count every night from their wagon. You thought of the sly looks they’d give you when a pretty young woman or a handsome young man took interest in you, and how you’d laugh and blush and refute their teasing. You thought of big, warm, lingering hugs and curling up with them in the back of the wagons on bitterly cold winter nights.

You thought of one such winter night when the snow had poured from the sky relentlessly and the roads were treacherous, and a gang of bandits had taken advantage of the cover to attempt to ambush you. You thought of the panic and rage and fear as they wrestled the travellers from the wagon, and you thought of the pain rippling through your limbs as you forced yourself to transform as quickly as possible. You thought of the horrible, warm taste of iron gushing around your wolf’s fangs. 

You thought about the terror in their eyes. You thought about stumbling through the woods and snow, eyes wild and breath ragged and blood drying on your muzzle, and the sound of footsteps and yelling behind you. You thought about running faster, trying to escape from your sins, and hearing the voices fade away. You thought about running until you could run no more, collapsing in the cold, and waking up in front of a friendly hearth in a raging storm. 

You think of a kind old woman who nursed you back to health and taught you how to deal with your powers and how not to be afraid of your beast skins. She taught you how to garden and how to hunt and how to sing and finding joy even in the pain. You loved her dearly.

You thought about watching her fade away without you, a smile perpetually on her face, even as she passed. You buried her in her garden and filled the grave with all her favorite flowers, and took only her shawl when you left. You think about looking back one last time, staring at the little cottage that had been home.

You wonder if it’s still there.

You thought of travelling into the cities, taking on the form of foxes and dogs and racoons and cats- whatever would get you where you wanted. You thought of the times when someone would stop to pet you, or find you scavenging from the garbage and set out food for you. You thought of people who would pick you up from soggy cardboard boxes and bring you out of the rain and give you a place to stay while you got dry or recovered from sickness. You thought of various people you’d come to think of as friends- as family.

You thought of another cat. A shapeshifter like yourself, her eyes bright and young. You thought of the day she saved you from a pack of dogs; you thought of all the old buildings you explored together and all the trouble you got into. 

You thought of a night at an old gas station and a truck, and you thought of fire and the feeling of her body slamming into yours moments before the truck exploded. You thought of pain you couldn’t describe and dragging your ragged body across the ground to what remained of her, missing a leg and an eye and tufts of fur, blood coating your body. You thought of laying down and hoping you’d finally die.

You thought of a stark white room and a horrid stench and a fuzzy pounding in your skull you couldn’t understand. You thought of several doctors, working diligently to salvage what they could of your smouldering corpse. You thought of friendly human faces and gentle, jovial voices as they bandaged you, affectionately dubbing you “Rags.” You thought of their gentle reassurance and support, helping you grow used to a life without your leg and your eye. You thought about the party they threw when you were finally recovered enough to be moved to a shelter, and the tears that stained your fur when they all pressed their faces into your pelt and wished you goodbye.

You thought that you’d never miss them. You did.

You thought about a lot of kindness when you were alone, and you were alone a lot, so you’d had plenty of time to think of kindness. More time than you needed, really- enough time for your mind to wander to all the other things in between. The hurt and the heartache and the fear… but you always thought about kindness. You always thought about the past. It was better than thinking about the present or the future.

“ _ Rags,  _ come play with  _ uuuuuuuus~ _ ” 

The playful, singsong voice draws your attention to another cat. Small and young and lively, a lovely caramel-colored tabby stood a short distance away, eagerly crouching as though to pounce on you. Behind her, you spot several other cats and kittens alike, all tussling with one another excitedly or waiting for her to join. You grumble softly, not moving from your curled up position in the corner. “Don’t call me Rags,” you mumble, shooting her a glare to try and will her away.

She pouts, stalking closer to swipe tauntingly at your ears. “Don’t be such a grumpy pants! Today is a really big, exciting day! We’re going to be adopted! Aren’t you excited?”

You roll your eye and shift so you’re facing away from her. Dawn is a sweet cat, but she’s new. She doesn’t know that you’ve been here for months, and that you’d been overlooked and avoided every time the monthly adoption day comes up. You don’t want to crush her hopes, but you’ve got to be realistic with her. “I’m not getting adopted, Dawn. No one wants a ratty, incomplete cat.”

“Don’t say that about yourself!” she gasps indignantly, offended on your behalf. “You’re not incomplete! So what if you’re missing a leg and an eye? When you’re not being a shut-in, you’re actually really sweet and really cuddly and really lovable! Why, I’m sure there’s someone out there who’s looking for a cat just like you!” 

“No one’s looking for a cat like me, believe me,” you return with a dry chuckle, thinking of snow and blood and fire. You raise your head, fixing her with a mock-growl and batting at her. “And I am  _ not  _ sweet and cuddly and loveable. I’m grumpy and angry and fierce. Rawr.” You punctuate this statement with another bat, purring as she jumps out of the way gleefully.

That playful fire is back in her eyes, and she advances on you again. “You are too cuddly and sweet! I’ll prove it!” 

She precedes to tackle you, purring as you yowl in consternation. You try to push her off with the legs you have, passing your amusement off as ire, but she stubbornly holds on, licking whatever she can reach. You sputter as she licks your ears and cheeks, and when you throw your head back and try shoving your paw in her muzzle, she uses the opening to assault your chest with her affection. 

“Noooo, Dawn, get offffff,” you whine half-heartedly, still trying to squirm away. You chance a glance around the enclosure you’d been placed in for the day. They’d placed you all in a large pen in a park somewhere, out where you could all relax in the sun and play and enjoy the shade of the trees looming behind it. They’d set out several toys to keep everyone entertained, and most cats were taking full advantage of that, rolling around and wrestling with toys or one another.

A few of them, however- the ones who were waiting for her, you’re sure- are staring at the two of you. Embarrassment floods you as you turn back to her, giving her a pleading look. “Dawn,  _ please  _ get off, cats are staring!” you hiss, ears flattening as you attempt not to glance back. You already made awkward eye contact with one of them; you did  _ not  _ need that again!

Dawn hums in faux thoughtfulness, pausing her grooming to sit up slightly and give you a mischievous smile. You notice that, regrettably, she still has you pretty thoroughly pinned. “And what’s so wrong with that? I’m just grooming you! And proving that you’re not mean, of course.” And to prove her point, she leans down and licks your ears.

You whine again and push her away. “I have a reputation! A reputation you are thoroughly trouncing at the moment!”

“Oh, please, you big baby, everyone knows you’re not actually a big angry ball of malice,” she drawls, rolling her eyes teasingly. She settles back on your chest, and you fall limp, defeated. “There. Now, hold still while I finish up. I wanna make you look nice for when the humans come!”

“I thought you said I wasn’t ratty,” you mutter petulantly as she does just that, shimmying off of you so she has access to the rest of you. You stretch out obligingly, letting your eye fall closed as she gently smooths your tousled fur back into place. You notice she avoids direct contact with your stump, but you don’t blame her for it. You don’t much like it either.

At your words, she smacks your muzzle lightly, and you deadpan an “ouch.” “I’m not calling you ratty, silly, I’m just saying that your fur is all messy and I’m gonna fix it.”

“Your friends are waiting to play with you,” you remind her softly, and there’s no bitterness when you utter it. Those are just the facts. Dawn is a popular cat, and others loved being around her. 

Dawn tilts her head up, makes a scoffing noise, and goes back to what she was doing. In between laps, she replies, “Not anymore they’re not. They all ran off to play something else.” A nudge to your side, and you raise your head to meet her soft smile. “I’d much rather spend time with you, you grumpy, fierce kitten.”

“Ugh,” is your intelligent reply, as you wrap a paw around your face to hide it. You are most definitely not embarrassed or flattered by that. Not at all. Curse her. 

She giggles, but says nothing else. You lie in silence until she announces she’s done, and then you grumble about how messy she is, and she grins when you offer to groom her. You end up napping there in the corner of the pen, curled around her with your head on her back while her muzzle presses into your belly. You’ll never admit it, but you’re glad she came to sit with you. Sometimes it got a little lonely being alone.

 

Dawn excitedly wakes you up some time later, eyes wide and shining. “Rags! Rags it’s time they’re here the humans are here they’re here they’re here  _ they’re here-”  _

You groan and slap your paw over her muzzle, silencing her as best you could. Or at least buying yourself some time. “Okay, okay, I get it, the humans are here, yay… can you please stop screaming in my ear now?” you complain, eye sliding closed once more. Time to sleep and reflect on your life once more, it seemed.

“Noooo, you gotta get up, come meet all the humans! Ooh, oh, Rags look, there are monsters here too!” Dawn quickly forgoes getting you up in favor of bounding over to examine the visitors that have arrived, joining several others in fighting for their attention.

Ugh. You were going to have to sit through at least four hours of this mess by yourself. It really wasn’t fair. Maybe if your stupid leg and stupid eye were still where they should be you’d have a chance. 

Why did you even care? You’d had your fair share of homes throughout the years. You didn’t need another home with people to laugh with and love you or any of that junk. You were content with your kennel in the pound and your mediocre cat food and the noise and stink of all the other animals. You were content with your tiny chew toys and your lack of company. It didn’t matter to you anymore. You were fine with staying curled up here in the corner and sleeping while everyone skirted around you.

You were fine.

In fact, you were more than fine. You were already starting to doze again, and with Dawn not around to bug you anymore, you had nothing stopping you from sleeping. You’d just nap through the event like always and then go back to your kennel and your boring life. Which you were fine with, of course.

Like magic, the moment you closed your eyes, your mind immediately drifted to better times. Happier times, while you thought of kindness big and small. You thought of warm summer days and lazy winter nights and thick fur pelts and the smell of coffee and paint. If you pinned your ears, you could drown out the too-loud, excited voices bombarding you, and closing your eyes tightly enough let you see the memories you were concocting. Burying your head under your paw let you block out the smells, and your senses were filled instead with freshly baked bread. 

With a gentle sigh, you let yourself fall asleep once more, pretending to live in the memories once again.

 

You’re not sure what wakes you the next time. One moment you’re sleeping peacefully, and the next you find yourself blinking into the sunlight, having rolled onto your stomach in your slumber. You stretch and yawn, muscles straining as you arch backwards towards the sun, and as you settle again, you roll over to observe the humans. There are a lot less of them, now, and more monsters. Seems like the event’s coming close to ending now.

Something catches your eye. It’s a pair of skeletons- a familiar pair. One tall, loud one, with narrowed eye sockets and impressive scars and a bright red scarf. The other is shorter and a little rounder(?), with a thick jacket filled with fur and a shiny gold tooth. They both loiter a little off to the side, with the taller one crossing his arms and observing the ongoings with a sneer. The shorter one seems to be staring passively at the cats clamouring for their attentions, and this far away you can’t tell if his perma-grin is any wider.

They’d started coming to the adoption days a few months ago, but they never took anyone home. You assumed they just came to the park and wandered by to check it out, rather than pick out a pet. The taller one seemed to like cats, from the way his stance got a little softer when he encountered them, and occasionally he’d kneel down to play with them, but after a few minutes they’d be gone.

You’d taken to watching them. They were so strange and out of place- and, if you were being honest, you were curious about the scars on the taller one. How had he gotten them? Had he lost the sight in that eye? How did he feel about them? And the shorter one. Why had he replaced one of his fangs with gold? And why did he always look so tired? You had a lot of questions you wanted to know about them, but you figured you’d never get the chance to ask, so you simply observed from a distance.

The taller one seemed to say something to the shorter one, and suddenly, the pair was making their way around the pen. You watched, confused and wide-eyed, as for the first time since their coming here they made their way into the enclosure. The taller one seemed to light up as he was swarmed, and instantly sat down to interact with the cats that approached him. They were quick to climb up any part of him they could or curl up in his lap or pounce on his hands, trying to engage him in play, and he was quick to indulge them. The shorter skeleton seemed to chuckle at his companion’s display and instead of engaging the cats, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced around lazily.

Suddenly, with a start, your gaze met his- a brilliant, bright red color that instantly caught your attention. You froze, taken off guard by the sudden stare, and you could only watch as he seemed to jump a little himself. Seems he wasn’t anticipating that you would be there- or that you would make eye contact. He tilted his head slightly, curious, and that was about all you could take. With deliberate slowness and a forced casual air, you turned away and made a show of licking your paw and bringing it over your face. 

Good job, totally played that off. Yup.

It took a while til you felt that you had sufficiently lost his attention, but when you’d finally settled down a little, you decided to simply continue your “sleep until everyone goes away” plan. You had thoroughly lost interest in watching the taller one, after all, and all you wanted to do now was go home. 

Your plans for sleep are foiled, however, when a shadow abruptly falls over you, and with a slight displacement of air and a soft “thump” as their body hits the ground, someone comes to sit next to you. You jump, fur bristling in surprise- you hadn’t heard anyone coming, and you hadn’t even been trying to block anything out yet! Warily, you turn your head to see who it could possibly be- 

And find yourself staring at two bright eyes and a sharp smile. Oh.

Why is he over here with you?!

“Heya, cat. This seat taken?” he drawled, slouching into the grass beside you and getting comfortable without waiting for an answer- not that you’d give him one anyways. He let out a gusty sigh, folding his arms under his head and tilting his skull to examine you. “Heh. You always spend yer time in the corner, or do we just get ‘ere too late ta talk to ya?”

Um? Excuse you? What did that even mean? Had he been watching you back?! You decided not to acknowledge this, and instead went back to grooming yourself, twisting around to clean the flank opposite of his grin. 

The skeleton snickers behind you, and you hear him shift. You peek up at him, still bent over your back, and you find that he’s rolled onto his side, head propped up in one hand. His smile widens when he catches you staring. “What’s’a matter, kitten?  _ Cat got yer tongue?” _

Did. Did he just make a cat joke. You had to give him props, you actually  _ hadn’t _ heard that one a thousand times before. But “kitten,” really? You were nowhere near a kitten! You were at least two centuries old! That did not a kitten make! You supposed you had to go easy on him, however. It’s not like he knew how old you were.

You still didn’t acknowledge him. You went right back to grooming. The skeleton hummed, but he didn’t seem disinterested. If anything, it sort of sounded like he’d taken your inaction as a challenge. “Oh, so yer the  _ aristo-cat-ic  _ type, huh? That’s alright. I think you’ll find that ignorin’ my jokes is  _ im-paw-sible. _ ”

Oh dear. Was he winking? You risked another glance at him. He did indeed wink when you caught him, and he chuckled as you blinked at him owlishly. Those were. Actually not bad. You didn’t hate those cat jokes, even though you’d heard the “paw” one at least fifty times. What kind of magic was this skeleton making? 

“Ey, whattaya call a pile o’ kittens?” he continued, leaning forward slightly. You quickly looked away, and after a moment of silence, he answered himself. “A  _ meowntain. _ ”

Oh no! He was actually funny! You realized that you’d begun purring before you could stop yourself, and  he must have picked up on your amusement somehow, because his sockets crinkled and a smug look entered his eyes. “Heh. Knew I could make ya’ laugh, kitten. Looks like ya’ got a  _ purr-fectly  _ good sense ‘a humor.” 

Gross, you’d heard that one before. Boo. Negative Interest Points.

You’re surprised when he says, “Oh, so that one didn’  _ tickle yer funny bone?  _ Must’a heard it before.” You glance up at him, startled, and he snorts, looking far too amused. “You can’t  _ fibula  _ ta me, kitten. I saw ya grimace. You  _ feline  _ okay?”

How many of these does he have?! Apparently way too many, because suddenly he’s reeling out terrible cat jokes left and right, and dang it if you’re not enjoying it. You sort of wish you could respond, because you’ve heard some pretty awful cat jokes in your life and you’re certain he would like them. You’re purring openly and loudly, and honestly, this has to be the most fun you’ve ever had at one of these stupid adoption things. 

He’s halfway through another joke when he suddenly reaches out, and you flinch slightly, staring at the bones in bewilderment. He pauses, but he never puts his hand down. Instead, he speaks to you in a softer, more relaxing tone. “Sorry if I spooked ya’, kitten. Shouldn’a moved so fast. I just wanna pet ya. That okay with you? ‘S fine if it ain’t, just thought I’d give it a go, yeah?” He gives a lackadaisical shrug, but his eyes are serious as he inspects you.

He… what? He wanted to… to pet you? You hadn’t been pet by anyone outside of the shelter in… a long time. Did  _ you  _ want him to pet you?

_ Stars yes,  _ your mind screamed, and that was the end of it, really. Hesitantly, you shuffled a little closer, sniffing his outstretched hand warily. He smelled like… like something tangy. You knew what it was. You  _ knew _ you knew what it was. Humans nowadays ate it all the time… Was that really important right now? No.  _ Focus.  _

Beyond the weird yellow smell, there was another layer of… something. Smelled vaguely like magic, and maybe… cherries? Yes, cherries, because that made perfect sense. Whatever. The point was, weird as he sort of smelled, he didn’t smell  _ dangerous.  _ Or at least it didn’t smell like he meant you any ill will. 

You felt… safe enough to trust him. For now. A few pets wasn’t so bad, was it?

Whatever. You never got anywhere without taking risks, right?

You pushed your head into his hand.

Bones in fur was… weird. This whole thing was weird.

But  _ wow,  _ did it feel  _ nice.  _ It was one thing to play fight with Dawn, but to have someone else  _ willingly touch you?  _ You’re in heaven. 

His hands are obviously harder than a humans, but it doesn’t hurt, and they’re a little scratched and nicked in places. He’s very careful with the blunted edges of his claws as he lightly scratches around your ear, like he’s worried he’ll scratch you with them. They’re too dull to do any real damage though, and they feel  _ beautiful.  _ That spot right there has been itching  _ for days  _ and he’s getting all the right spots, ooh yeah,  _ riiiiiiight there… _

The skeleton huffs softly in amusement, trailing his gentle touches around your cheek and rubbing your chin. You crack your eye open, wondering just what he finds so funny, and get a finger poking your nose instead of an answer. You blink and pull away, bewildered, and he laughs a little louder. You rumble indignantly at him, not really angry or anything, and then nudge his hand again. You want more pets darn it. 

You’re going to fall asleep again if this keeps up. Not that it’d bother you, but you… kind of wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as possible? You have no clue if he’ll ever come back again. You try your hardest to commit this moment to memory, focusing on the smell of him and the sight of his lazy grin and his hands in your fur. You’ll never forget this little moment of kindness.

“Sans? What are you doing over here?”

The loud voice shakes you out of your stupor, and you startle slightly, fur rising as you curl further behind the skeleton. Said skeleton- Sans? Presumably?- cranes his head up, and a shadow falls across the both of you. You’re surprised to see it’s the taller one, strangely lacking his swarm of cats. “Eyyy, Boss. ‘Bout time you came over here. Lookit who I found.”

Sans lightly pushed you out from where you’d been hiding in his bulk, and while you whipped around to give him a betrayed look, the skeleton above you gasped. You cringed, ears twitching back as you curled in on yourself again. Ah yes, shock and horror you were so used to hearing when people caught sight of your state. Brilliant. 

The skeleton kneeled down, quiet, and a pair of red gloves came into view. You startled back slightly, eyeing the hands warily, and they remained hovering in the air beside you. Just like Sans, you realized. 

Slowly, you let yourself look up. He didn’t look… scared. Or horrified, or anything. In fact, he just looked… soft. Understanding. The red in his eyes were replaced with tiny pricks of fuzzy white- and now you realized that the light in his scarred eye was dimmer, a little unfocused.

Your heart caught in your throat. He understood. He  _ understood. _

You rose to your paws, a little awkwardly and unsteadily, and leaned up, gently brushing your nose over his scars. They were jagged and rough on your fur, but you ignored it in favor of nuzzling him hesitantly, ready to pull away at a moment's notice. 

His hands rose again in the corner of your vision, and though you stiffened, you didn't pull away. One hand traced the scars on your side, where the fur hadn't quite grown back yet, and then up to your stump. That was… significantly less comfortable for you, and though you wanted to shy away from it, you stayed put. He probably wasn't very comfortable with your nose in his face, either. You could deal with it.

Thankfully he didn't linger, as a moment later he gently touched the side of your face, just beneath your eye. You pulled back slightly, letting him get a good look at it, meeting his gaze fearlessly. 

Suddenly, he smiled at you. His hands brushed your ears gently. 

Then he pulled away and stood up, all in one quick and fluid motion. He swung dramatic finger to Sans, declaring, “BROTHER! BRING THE CAT! IT IS TIME THAT WE ADOPTED THEM!”

Excuse you, that they  _ what?  _

Sans chuckled, sitting up. “Heh. Told ya you'd love 'em.”

What were they saying???

“YES, YES, I GET IT. JUST HURRY UP AND BRING THEM!” 

He turned and hurried over to the booth- the booth with… the booth where… What was happening??? What was actually going on? Certainly you'd heard them wrong. They couldn't have possibly meant…

Sans let out another huff, then grinned down at you mischievously. “Well, we wouldn’ wanna keep 'im waitin’, now would we, kitten? Mind if I pick ya up?”

You weren't quite sure if you nodded or what, but in the next moment you were in his arms and he was heading over to the booth and Dawn spotted you and started hollering, congratulating you, and then suddenly several voices we're cheering and you still had no clue what was going on. Everything felt incredibly surreal and confusing. 

You pretty much missed the entire paperwork process, still reeling from the whole thing. Thankfully you were lucid enough to realise that Papyrus- the tall skeleton, you found out- had decided to name you Doomfanger, which was… something, alright. You also witnesses the moment Papyrus purchased a rather intimidating black collar with dulled spikes on it, which admittedly looked really cool, and then had a small existential crisis as you realized that was  _ yours  _ now, they were putting that on  _ you,  _ they were taking you home??

At the same moment you also realized that  _ oh dear, I've just been adopted, they think I'm a cat,  _ which… wasn't wrong, but certainly wasn't right either. How… exactly did you plan on managing your transformations? 

Granted, you had one of the longest limits of any shapeshifter you knew. You'd never met anyone who could stay in one skin for over a year, although you'd heard about them. Apparently they were much more common now than way back when. 

That wasn't… really the point though. You'd been in this form for, what, a little under a year now? You had… maybe a few months, at most. That was plenty of time to figure out how you'd deal with all of… this. 

You stayed in Sans’ arms while one of the employees ran to get your kennel and toys, and then on the car ride back to the shelter so they could pick up some food and a bed and things of that nature. You stayed in his arms until you got back to their house- an admittedly lovely, tall white house with red trim and several “No Trespassing” signs- and they sat down on the couch with you, and then Papyrus pulled you into his lap.

He just sort of… stared down at you for a while, like he couldn't quite believe what was happening, like he didn't think you could actually be here, and you had to admit, you felt much the same. 

But… you were happy for it anyways.

He slid the collar around your neck, fastening it comfortably over your fur. The weight of it was strange and foreign, but you found yourself very attached to it already.

This was a sign that you  _ belonged  _ somewhere. That you had a  _ home,  _ and maybe, even, someone who… cared about you? 

Papyrus lightly scratched your ear. “Welcome home, Doomfanger.”

Sans snorted, but he was grinning as he leaned over and cupped your cheek. He gave you a wink. “Welcome home, Rags.”

_ It's good to be here,  _ you thought, feeling disgustingly fuzzy and warm. Stupid emotions. Stupid skeletons making you  _ feel _ stupid emotions. 

...You wouldn't have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Hghghghghghghghsjakskaj this is so happy I'm sorry-
> 
> Plz lemme know if you see any errors, I might go back and change some things eventually *shrugs*


End file.
